When you think of douchey restaurants there are a few that instantly come to mind, notably anything that falls under the “Breasturant” purview; Your Hooters, Tilted Kilts, Twin Peaks, Food n’ Tits, etc. Below that you have your douche casual, or bro light, eateries, what amount to glorified sports bars of which today’s spotlight shines upon. I’m talking about Buffalo Wild Wings, a location showcasing the an ungulate so anatomically incorrect that not even William Thomas Cox’s 1910 Fearsome Creatures of the Lumberwoods, With a Few Desert and Mountain Beasts includes them.
Stepping into a BWW is like stepping into George Orwell’s nightmare’s nightmare. Even Big Brother himself upon being confronted by the amount of blaring TV screens would suggest that maybe they should tone it down a little. I was lead to a table Winston Smith style and they attached a cage of hungry rats to my face, only I had them hold the rats and replace them with nachos.
First up into my face cage were the Ultimate Nachos, or more aptly named, the Sodium Nachos. You don’t get into the nacho business and not experience an increase in your sodium level from eating chips, but these were practically dusted with kidney stones. As I munched on I could feel myself desiccating, and the toppings did little to add any sort of moisture to the dish, or lessen the strain on my arteries and kidneys. I honestly can't remember if there was chili on it, but I don't think so as that should have helped make it less salty right? As my flesh withered and dried out, I ordered the “Screamin’ Nacho Burger” in the hopes that a juicy burger would help me out, along with drinking my glass of water, and the glasses of water of everyone else at the table.
Two grilled slammer patties, Chipotle BBQ™ seasoning, corn tortilla chips, pepper jack cheese, fresh jalapeños, pico-de gallo and a drizzle of southwestern ranch dressing.
Next into the face cage was the “Screamin’ Nacho Burger”, the screaming in this case being internally by me when I realized they hadn’t included the tortilla chips, the thing that makes the “Nacho” part of the “Screamin’ Nacho Burger”. What does that leave? A cheeseburger with nacho cheese, pico de gallo, and a few jalapenos on top. Was it good? Of course, you can’t have all those things on a burger and have it not be good, but it wasn’t nachos in the least. Moral of the story, make your burgers right. On second thought, after having their nachos, maybe it was better that they forgot the chips...
So Buffalo Wild Wings, maybe you just stick to your wings and if you want to get into the nacho business put down the salt before you do. Maybe overall as humankind we need to abandon the Winged Buffalo and instead embrace the Snallygaster, Jackalope, Agropelter, Hodag, Splinter Cat, or any of the other mythical legendary beasts of America better fitting for cultural adoration. I for one would love to visit Squonk Wild Wings, and I’m sure even the creature’s salty tears would have a lower sodium content than my nachos.
